


Unexpected Changes

by orphan_account



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 21:42:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Koujaku walks in on a sleeping Aoba, he realizes things will never be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Changes

Koujaku had entered Aoba’s home just as he had many times before; with a confident knock on the front door, an exclamation of “Please excuse the intrusion!” and Tae-san berating him for neglecting to give prior warning, though Koujaku insisted he had sent Aoba a message beforehand.

Everything had begun the same as it always did.

“Speaking of Aoba, where is he?” Koujaku asked the aging woman as he sipped his cup of tea at the kitchen table.

Tae-san responded with a sigh. “He came home from work with a headache, took some medicine, and headed upstairs. I haven’t seen him since.” Her eyes flicked in the direction of the stairs, a worried look crinkling the already very apparent lines of her forehead.

Koujaku smiled softly behind his teacup. Seeing the woman’s concern for her grandson made the hairdresser both envious and sorrowful. That kind of love—it was something he’d never have again.

But, he thought as he slowly rose from his seat, the present was not the time to dwell on the past. He let his charming side sculpt the corner of his lips into a winning grin and directed it towards Tae-san. She raised an eyebrow and regarded him with suspicion. She had always been wary of him when he slipped on his charismatic façade. Clever woman.

“I’ll check on him, shall I?” he stated as he headed towards the hall after placing a sleep mode Beni on the table. If Aoba was asleep too, it would be dangerous when Koujaku woke him up. He thought that, just this once, he’d take mercy on his Allmate and let him sit out the terror of a grouchy Aoba.

Koujaku hadn’t meant to sneak in on Aoba sleeping—not really. He had meant to barge in and shout at him until he shouted back. It’s not like he had ever fantasized about the blue-haired boy’s defenseless sleeping face, with his eyes closed softly and his pink lips parted slightly and his smooth arm curled around his slender waist, long fingers digging into the thin fabric of his shirt and holy shit he would have never dreamed he’d be so turned on by the sight before him.

But Koujaku, a man in every sense of the word, could not deny the heat coiling in the pit of his stomach at the sight before him and he was left simultaneously trying to suppress the desire rising in his lap with the palm of his hand and wondering when, exactly, things had changed to this degree.

Sexual frustration was the last thing he had come to Aoba’s house for. It was the one place he could relax, the one place he didn’t have to smile, but could because he was genuinely happy. There were no ladies to impress and allure, no angry boyfriends sulking in the background, and no teammates to pester him with Rib problems. Here, he was just Koujaku, Aoba’s childhood friend.

He felt a blush burn through his face at that last notion. That’s right. He was Aoba’s longtime friend. He should not be having thoughts like this.

Aoba took that moment to moan quietly in his sleep and Koujaku grit his teeth as his dick twitched under his kimono. He stared at the man’s face, brow now slightly furrowed, and reached out with his left hand without thinking. He placed the hand lightly on Aoba’s face, marveling at how smooth his skin was; not marred by scars like his own. His thumb gently rubbed out the creases between Aoba’s eyebrows and waited for him to wake up from the contact. When he didn’t, Koujaku let his thumb trace a soft line down Aoba’s nose. His other hand slipped under the hem of his pants and his knuckles grazed his erection. He bit his lip at the sensation.

His thumb flitted over Aoba’s top lip and rested on the bottom. Still, Aoba had yet to stir. Koujaku swallowed thickly, eyes focused on the other man’s mouth. His hot breath blew over the digit and it ignited Koujaku’s skin. Biting his lower lip, Koujaku slowly slid his thumb into Aoba’s mouth. He groaned when he felt Aoba’s wet tongue slide under the pad of his thumb. He shut his eyes against the feeling rocking through him and pressed an open palm against the flaming skin of his erection. He slipped his hand out of his pants briefly, quickly popped the button, and dove back in to let his fingers wrap around his dick. He pumped once, twice, three times before his knees gave out and he rocked back onto his ass.

His thumb had slipped out of Aoba’s mouth and Koujaku ran the saliva-slick digit over the tip of his penis. His face flushed even warmer thinking about how it was Aoba’s saliva mixing with his pre-cum. It was Aoba who filled his thoughts as he jerked off in the man’s room. It was Aoba who lie sleeping in front of him, oblivious to what he was doing and the absolute pleasure it was giving him. And it was Aoba who was responsible for reducing him to such a mess.

Aoba, his childhood friend; the sniveling boy from the playground; the boy he had always felt the most endeared to. When had things changed like this?

With a spine-bending shudder, Koujaku came suddenly. He sighed as he rode out his release, letting his eyes slide open lazily. Aoba was still sleeping soundly. Koujaku gave a small smile. As ignorant and innocent as always. He looked down at his lap and the mess he had made of his pants. Luckily, nothing had spilled onto his kimono.

Koujaku felt a warmness slip down over his mouth. Confused, he lifted a heavy hand to his chin, wiped at something wet, and brought his fingers away. He blinked a few times, wondering if he was seeing correctly. No matter how many times he opened and closed his eyes, though, nothing changed. A smear of red was shining on his index finger.

Koujaku stumbled to his feet, suddenly more embarrassed than he had ever been in his life despite that fact that there was no one—well, no one conscious anyway—to witness his embarrassment. He hastily arranged his kimono over the stains on his pants as he cringed at himself. Being aroused was one thing, but being so aroused that he got a nosebleed was something else entirely. It had only happened once before, and the girl had been so disgusted she had left right then and there. For it to happen now, of all times—and over Aoba—was too much.

He hurried from the room, nearly broke his neck tripping down the stairs, and burst into the kitchen. He ignored Tae-san’s angry look and the delicious smell of her cooking, and grabbed Beni from the table. He mumbled a hasty apology before he strode into the hall, slipped on his shoes, and rushed into the street. He didn’t stop walking until he was a few streets away, and even then he just slowed his pace down a bit.

As he walked, his mind was a riot of different thoughts. He was attracted to Aoba. He had jerked off to the thought of Aoba. In Aoba’s room, with Tae-san just a staircase away. What the hell?

But there was no denying it: Things between them, at least on Koujaku’s side, would never be the same.

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this to tumblr before publishing it here and the story seemed to receive a lot of supportive feedback--way more than I was expecting. And that makes me incredibly happy. I was asked by the incredible ineffableboyfriends on tumblr (Seriously, her blog is amazing. Go check it out, yo.) if I'd published it on AO3. I promised I would, so here it is.


End file.
